InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The House of Mirth ❯ A Narrow Escape ( Chapter 6 )

The House of Mirth

By: RedHerring

 

Warning: This chapter has dark themes occurring; strong lime content, and suggesting Sexual abuse.

 

Chapter 6: A Narrow Escape

 

When I walk through the door I head straight for my room, taking off Shippou's -- ...Dayu's... -- shoes and settling him under the red and green blankets. We'll definitely be taking those. Shippou - Dayu -- can't get to sleep without them.

 

I get home with enough time to fry something and vacuum before Onigumo gets home. It's not really good. Even though I have to cook a lot, I'm still not good at it. Dinner is easy, just something with beef and some stir-fry that I stick it in the oven to keep warm. I vacuum next, but the damn vacuum is such an old piece of crap that it spits out more dust than it sucks up -- however that's possible, I usually get a beating for not vacuuming right, but that's one of the cases where the severity of the beating depends on The Bastard's mood. Hopefully, his little rendezvous with his bitch will have calmed him down a little bit.

 

The rug now as clean as this particular vacuum can get it. Actually, I think it's dirtier than before I cleaned it. Shit, there goes a night of bruise-free sleep. I pick up the clumsy equipment and drop it into the hall closet.... Holy shit, I feel like some kind of housewife.

 

Fuck! Get those images out of my head!

 

The small pattering of feet alerts me of Shippou's presence behind me. I turn around to catch him waddling into the kitchen with his arms full. He has his box of crayons and his giant wad of construction paper, sporting a determined look on his face. Looks like I'm in for that coloring contest.

 

“Come on Inuyasha,” he says firmly. I sigh and follow him, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. When he makes as if to jump onto the table, I grab him before he can and gently set him down. Unperturbed, he sets down his supplies and takes a seat opposite the chair I usually sit in. I sit down and we stare at each other, as if measuring each other up before battle.

 

I can barely keep from cracking a smile. Shippou has such a serious look on his face, but I guess that to a child a coloring contest is a serious matter. He opens the tin box and says, “Choose your weapon.”

 

I snicker and hide my head in my arms as I try to keep from bursting out laughing, Shippou slips some giggles.

 

I reach into the box at random and draw out a crayon. Shippou reaches in after me and pulls out his own. He hands me a piece of paper and takes his own, all with his serious face on, made foolish only by the fact that he's four years old, and he keeps laughing.

 

“Draw,” he says in a scratchy western voice, imitating a cowboy at a standoff. He begins drawing furiously. His lines are wavy, and what appears to be a house looks more like a wheel of cheese. I start drawing randomly. Some blue fire here, a sword there. Damn, my sword looks like a freaky tree branch. I might as wee add a trunk... No, that line looks more like an arrow now. Some clouds, a chibbie me in the branches of the tree....

 

“Hey, Shippou,” I ask, breaking the `tense' silence.

 

“What's up?” he grunts, concentrating vigorously on drawing his boat in the sky. How do I put this? Hey, kit, want me to be your dad? I don't even know why I thought of doing this now. Couldn't it wait till we leave here? Better start small. Talk about the trip then ease into the discussion of the marking.

 

“I've been thinking. We want to leave this place, right?” I ask.

 

“Right.” He grunts, shifting uncomfortably at the mention of our problems.

 

“Well, maybe it's time you should start thinking of what you would want to take with us when we leave,” I say quietly. We both continue drawing, but the pace has noticeably slackened.

 

“We'll be leaving soon?” he questions.

 

“Before tomorrow night,” I tell him. He stops drawing. What is he thinking? He's old enough to know a lot of things since youkai children develop mentally faster than human children. Not that I know how a human child matures.

 

“Can I take Myoga?” He looks at me worriedly. He knows that this is a very serious matter, and he's probably worried I won't let him take anything that he doesn't absolutely need, which is partly true.

 

“Anything that you can fit into your suitcase and your backpack.” He smiles and nods. He looks noticeably happier as he starts to draw acorns.

 

It's quiet for a few more minutes, but I have to get this out now. He'll understand, and it's important that he knows almost everything so that he knows what not to talk about.

 

“Tsuyo gave us a way to make it harder for Onigumo to find us,” I say calmly.

 

“He can find us if we leave?” Shippou squeaks in fear. His crayon rolls off the table from where he dropped it.

 

“Calm down runt,” I snort. “He can't find us if I don't want him to, but Tsuyo gave us some stuff that can help us.”

 

“What stuff?” he asks, looking forlornly at his dropped crayon. He knows I won't let him get it.

 

“Papers and stuff. They change our names,”

 

“How do they do that?” he asks curiously.

 

“Well,” I begin, also starting to draw more leaves on my sickly-looking tree. How do I say this so he understands? “They just say who we are so that important people, like the police, can recognize us. We have other ones that say we are Inuyasha and Shippou, but when Tsuyo calls, the old ones will be gone and the new ones will say that we are Nuya and Dayu.”

 

“I call Nuya!” he yells.

 

“Sorry, runt. That's my name,”

 

“But I don't wanna be Dayu,” he whines.

 

“That's the name Tsuyo picked out for you. Do you think I want to be Nuya? I'd rather I was something less Japanese-sounding. Like Alex, or something,” I grumble.

 

“Then why not just let me have Nuya?” Shippou persists. In his little child mind it makes perfect sense.

 

“Because the papers say that I'm Nuya,” I tell him.

 

“Well fine,” he sighs and sets down his crayons. “I'm done!” he cheers, pumping his fists in the air. “I win the contest!”

 

“Hey, I thought it was who the better drawer was; not who can draw the fastest!” I complain. Little twerp cheated!

 

“Nuh-uh! I was done first, and my drawing is still better than yours is. I win!” he gloats and stands to do a little victory dance on the counter top.

 

Grrrrr! If that little annoying runt wasn't sick, I'd bop him!

 

“You're lucky you're sick runt,” I growl, pointing my finger threateningly at him. Shippou's eyes sparkle as he sticks out his tongue.

 

“Nyah nyah! I win the contest! I win the contest!” he sings and continues his victory dance.

 

I dart my eyes around the kitchen to find something to vent my frustration on, and my eyes land on the clock. It's Seven o'clock. Onigumo should have been home an hour ago. Not that I care much. Sometimes he gets to the apartment late, smelling like his bitch. But now it's late, and Shippou has to eat supper.

 

“Fine, you little cheater. Calm down or you'll make yourself sick again,” I warn. He plops down on the tabletop with a highly satisfied air about him and crosses his arms. I stand up to put together two dishes of stir-fry.

 

It's quiet while we eat. Shippou picks out the pieces of meat and rice through the vegetables and only grudgingly eats them when I growl in warning. He makes a stupid fake gagging face, but I know for a fact that he can gag on nothing.

 

Wait. I just realized that Shippou's reaction shouldn't have been the way it was. I mean, you tell a four year old that they have a new name; they either won't believe you or they'll think of it as a game

 

“Shippou, I meant what I said. When we leave, your name will be different; and so will mine,” I look at him and he glances from me to his food, as if he doesn't know where to look.

 

“But I like my name. Mommy gave me my name, and I wanna keep it,” he says sadly.

 

“I wanna keep my name too; but this way Onigumo can't find us. And if he can't find us, then that means that we'll never have to live here again,” I add on an upbeat note. He looks seriously, his little four-year-old mind working overtime.

 

“What if I forget?” he asks softly.

 

“Well, that's easy,” I say as boisterously as I can. “We'll just write it down, and then you can keep that piece of paper safe,” I say, smiling hugely, trying to cheer him up. God, I didn't realize how depressing a depressed kit is. “See? Look,” I take my drawing and a black crayon and in the bottom corner, I write: `To: Dayu (Shippou). From: Nuya (Inuyasha)'.

 

“There. Now we know what both of our names were,” I say, presenting him with my amateur crayon drawing. He looks at it with wide eyes, and then reverently folds it and puts it in the pocket of his overalls.

 

“Better?” I ask.

 

“Yeah,” he says softly and goes back to picking at his meal. Maybe I shouldn't bring up the blood marking. It would really freak him out, and he really doesn't need that after such a huge thing to adjust to. I have to do it soon though.

.o.

.o.

.o.

Its ten o'clock and The Bastard isn't home yet. Usually I wouldn't be worried, but it's kind of important now that I know where he is.

 

We're all packed. Shippou stuffed crayons, toys, blankets and other `essential' items into his backpack. The thing currently looks like a colorful boulder. Anything that I could find of value, I packed. Some stuff that we would need, like medicine and other things. Some stuff I could pawn if I really needed the money. Cloths, of course, dry food, so we won't have to buy food for a few days ,but then I ran out of room. My school bag has all my books and notes from classes, as well as Shippou -- Dayu's -- and my documents.

 

I am determined to get scholarships so I can go to college. I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to go to college if I don't have at least some financial aid. Working part time, going to classes, and taking care of Shippou while trying to keep myself alive and fed looks impossible. Plus, with the enormous amounts of homework, I don't know how I'll keep up my grades.

 

No. Stop. Think of that when the time comes. I can do absolutely nothing about it now, so I should just stop thinking about it. Instead, I think about the things that I can control. Everything is packed and the suitcases are hidden from Onigumo, so nothing will arouse suspicion. As soon as possible, Shippou and I will take the luggage and leave, but I'm forgetting something, I know it!

 

The sound of keys turning a lock rattles through the dirty apartment. Oh yeah. That.

 

As quietly as I can, I move to my room where I have Shippou. He's still asleep; that's good. The thing I have to remember is not to act nervous. Onigumo is unpredictable at best about what he's gonna get pissed over. All I can do now is wait. Dammit, I'm a hanyou! He's a human! Why the fuck am I so nervous?

 

There's movement in the living room, then the sounds move toward the short hallway at the opposite end of the front room.

 

Why am I holding my breath?!

 

Ok, breathe. Act normal.

 

I lean against the wall at the foot of my bead and face the doorway. Two pairs of feet obstruct the thin band of light shining under the doorway.

 

“He's in this room?” a female voice questions.

 

“Yes,” The Bastard's voice answers. The female voice hums in pleasure and laughs.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” she asks, and the loose doorknob rattles as her hand starts to turn it.

 

“Don't bother,” The Bastard says. “He's probably awake and can hear us.” Uh oh. “And if he knows what's good for him and the brat, he'll open the door right now.” he says in a hard voice.

 

What should I do? Will he go after Shipp -- Dayu? What if I don't do what he says? I know I can protect myself and Shi -- Dayu when we're in the same room, but what about when it comes time to leave? Maybe I should just follow his orders this one last time. That way, there'll be less trouble when it comes time to leave.

 

I get up and slowly walk towards the door.

 

“Hurry it up, moron, we don't have all night,” he complains. I pause for a moment. I'm getting bad vibes from the other side of the door, but I shake it off. What harm could he possibly do to me -- other than batter my ego some more, or bloody my back?

 

I turn the doorknob and open the door. My stepfather and his bitch that stinks of sex are outside waiting for me.

 

Suddenly, the door is ripped open, and I bring a hand up just in time to block the blow of an aluminum baseball bat to my head. Quicker than I expect, the bitch wraps prayer beads around my blocking arm. The holy magic burns my arm, but it's not more than I can stand.

 

She tugs on the beads, but she can't move me. I'm a hanyou and she's a pathetic human. What the hell is going on?! What brought this on?

 

“What the hell?” I yell.

 

“Shut up you stupid shit,” Onigumo growls, and with his free hand aims a punch for my nose. I use my other hand to block and the bitch tries to get another set of beads around my free hand, but I'm expecting the move. I don't expect her steel-toed heels to fly up and ram me in the nuts.

 

That! Fucking! Hurts! It hurts so much, I can barely think. I can't breath, and I don't notice when she firmly ties both of my hands behind my back. All I can notice is the sickening pain in my groin. It hurts!

 

Then all goes black when the aluminum bat smashes down right between my ears.

.o.

.o.

.o.

I wake up sometime later. My head fucking hurts like a mother fucker, and my balls still ache where the bitch kicked me. God, I even feel nauseous.

 

It's still dark, and the fact that I'm still feeling the blows probably means that I haven't been out for more than an hour. My ears are ringing and I can barely hear a thing. I cautiously test the air. I can smell my stepfather and his bitch nearby. One is... behind me?

 

I've been put in a chair. My hands are tied behind my back. I try to move my han -- Oh fuck! Ok, they're in prayer beads. Shit, that fucking stings!

 

“Nuh-uh, my naughty little hanyou,” a velvety voice purrs in my ear. What the hell?

 

Heavy, unsteady, footsteps alert both of us to the presence of a very drunken human.

 

“Oh, so the fucker's up? Huh, it didn't take him long,” The Bastard belches and picks up the aluminum bat again.

 

“Do you want him out for this, mistress, or should I keep him awake?” he asks. Awake for what? I'm getting a very bad feeling that I'm not going to like what's about to happen. But I stay calm. I have to stay calm. Where am I?

 

“Don't you dare fucking knock me out again, or I'll feed you your intestines. Let me go right now!” I scream.

 

Looking around, I notice the stained rug and the rumpled bed. There's a broken window to the right of me that looks out onto a brick wall, and a folding card table near the door—which I'm facing. I'm in The Bastard's room, although why is beyond me.

 

“I think I want to keep this feisty one awake, dear,” the whore says. One of her hands travels up my arm and through my hair, making a path to one of my ears. “That is, if he behaves himself.” Her fingers fondle it, giving me a very odd sensation. I try to jerk my head out of her grasp, but she digs her nails into the tender flesh and drags my head back.

 

“Cut it out,” I growl. I'm very close to panicking. My instincts sense a threat, and they're going haywire for me to get away.

 

“Aww, Onigumo,” she coos. “Isn't he cute?” She circles around me, and now that she's in front of me -- and not trying to trap me with rosary beads -- I can see her fully. I haven't seen more provocative and revealing on prostitutes.

 

I shift uncomfortably -- forgetting that I'm bound with prayer beads, so I get another nasty shock that makes me hiss in pain. The wench smiles cynically and leans down in front of me, her breasts practically hanging out of her nonexistent shirt.

 

Her hands rest on my knees and glide up further towards my still painful groin. I can't really describe what that does. I fucking wish she'd stop, but I can do absolutely nothing to get her away.

 

God, I'm so fucking helpless! What... oh fuck, why is this happening?

 

“I'm sorry I had to damage you, precious,” she says, her hand finally reaching my groin, and caressing it lightly. Is she talking to that? I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my head, going dizzy from the sickening stench.

 

“You sick slut! Get the fuck away, or I'll rip you a new orifice!” I yell, baring my fangs. She frowns and backs away. The hell? Okay, I didn't really expect her to do it....

 

“What's wrong Inuyasha? Most men would be drooling to have me pleasure them,” she says.

 

“Yeah, well most men wouldn't be able to smell the man that made their life hell all over you. Not to mention the fact that you're a whore and slutty women just don't get it up for me. Sorry,” I growl at her. She frowns, and then shrugs.

 

“I wish you didn't make me have to do this,” she sighs dramatically. The bitch goes behind me and I crane my head to follow her. Bad mistake.

 

The Bastard is right by me and the aluminum bat once again makes an acquaintance with my scull—clipping an eye this time. I see a flash of red before everything goes black again.

.o.

.o.

.o.

Damn... My head hurts so bad. I can't help but whimper in pain as I regain consciousness. I can feel my arms still tied, and my mouth is dry. Probably because there's some kind of cloth in it. They gagged me.

 

It hurts to move my head. It hurts to move my eyes. I can't even move my ears. I can barely breathe. I can barely sense the world around me. I almost feel like crying, but as I continue to wake up my head clears and the world comes into sharper focus. It's some how... colder that before. I can't stop shivering. There's something warm in my lap though.

 

I'm going to have to open my eyes. I whimper loudly -- fuck it. Don't show weakness. Never show weakness! I'm such a weakling and a fucking coward that I can't even defend myself against two humans without so much as one drop of youkai blood!

 

The bitch is on my lap. Stark. Naked. And—what the hell? Why am I naked too?! I jerk back from her with no gainful result, but a sharp pain in my lower back makes itself known. All thoughts of weakness and dignity leave me as I revert to full meltdown mode. My breathing speeds up, and it feels like my head is going to explode from how loud my heart is beating. My wide, panicked eyes dart from the bitch, who is staring at me lustfully, to Onigumo who looks quite happy at my situation.

 

And why does it hurt there?

 

“Mmmph!” I try screaming, but the gag muffles anything I try to say.

 

I have to get out of here. I have to do something -- anything to get out of here, pride be dammed! Onigumo is at the door, bat in hand. The bitch is on my lap. Shippou is still in the other room. Is he awake? The bitch is talking, but I'm not paying attention.

 

My mind is scattered and jumbled in my panic. Half-finished thoughts fly though my head as I try to focus on a way to get out. However, I can't think at all when a warm, wet tongue slides up my neck. It's... slimy, and disgusting. Like being coated in crude oil.

 

I squirm furiously and am able to ignore the shocks of holy power from the beads for a while. Some seem to have been tied to my feet so that I am anchored to the chair.

 

“No! Bad dog!” she yells and smacks me on the nose. Now she's treating me like a dog?! I can even feel the urge to lower my head and plead for forgiveness, but I firmly squash that. I am no better than a stupid obedient dog that always does what his master tells him to. If I had just listened to my instincts before, I wouldn't be in this situation now.

 

Onigumo laughs and his hand goes down to stroke the erection that I just now notice he's sporting. I think I am going to throw up.

 

My eyes dart to look anywhere but at the two disgusting people getting their kicks at my expense. When will this end? I swear to god, as soon as I get just one appendage free I'm going to -- okay, that's a hand there.

 

She's fondling me. It's just so disturbing and wrong, and filthy, and it's made all the worse by the noises coming from the deviant man who raised me. I shiver in disgust, and frankly from, the cold. From the way The Bastard's prostitute is smiling it looks as if she thinks she's getting some kind of reaction out of me.

 

“Just calm down and enjoy it,” she whispers, and starts grinding her body against mine. Her hands are going everywhere. Pinching and dragging her nails across soft flesh, caressing and fondling my tender bits. Her mouth is lathering and hoovering my throat—something my instincts do not appreciate. The throat is a vulnerable place with a major artery. One good nick to the jugular vein, and even a hanyou like me wouldn't be able to survive the blood loss.

 

I'm as tense as a spring, and no matter how she tries, she just can't get a reaction out of me. With a grunt, she gets off of me and looks at me critically. I glare at her, trying to kill her with a look or at least intimidate her enough to back away.

 

It doesn't work, and all she does is laugh.

 

“Onigumo, dear, come here with the bat,” she snaps after her giggling fit. He jumps to obey and stands near me, bat in hand, erection still turgid. I have to hold down the bile as both of their putrid scents wash over me.

 

“It may just be easier to knock him out again,” she murmurs, and The Bastard raises the bat questioningly. I barely keep from flinching.

 

The bitch circles me again and leans down to whisper in my abused and bleeding ear. “But if doggy is good, then doggy won't get punished,”

 

Let's see what happens. She stopped touching me -- thank fucking god! - but what is she going to do?

 

“Will my doggy be good?” she coos. Should I? Hesitantly, I nod. On the one hand, they could knock me out and I'd be just as helpless when I woke up. On the other hand, they could do something, and I'd be conscious for it -- although I don't know if that's a good thing -- and I have a better chance of getting loose.

 

“Very good,” she purrs. “See Onigumo? He does know how to behave. He just has to know who owns him...” she trails off and starts sucking on one of my ears, plunging her tongue down the canal. Gross! A shudder rips through my body with the force of an electric shock. That's just fucking disgusting! Her hands roam my chest from behind, apparently unconcerned about any of my reactions anymore. I start to squirm, but stop. I shouldn't, or they will just knock me out again like the stupid dog that I am. God, I'm the most retarded moron in the world! I wish I could just do something to get them away!

 

She finishes with my ears and moves in front of me again. She kneels down in a way that I would find provocative, if she were a different person, and I was in a different room, even in a different state, and untied, and Onigumo wasn't jacking off again two feet away from me.

 

She leans forward and her hands trail down to the rosaries that bind my ankles to the chair. I grow tense as I wait for my opportunity. Her head moves in between my knees as her hands just rest on the beads. She looks into my furious, narrowed eyes as her lips plant kisses on the inside of my thighs. Her tongue snakes out to coat my thighs in that same disgusting oil as my neck.

 

I can't stand it anymore. I shut my eyes tight and turn my head from them both. I can still smell their disgusting scents, still hear their aroused pants, still feel her tongue slurping closer to my manhood. It's just so... filthy. And how weak am I to let this happen? Men don't get raped. Youkai don't get raped. But I'm not a youkai.... Just a dirty, disgusting, bastard of a hanyou, aren't I? I probably deserve this, just for being born.

 

Her hands move off the bindings, apparently forgetting that she was going to do something with them. I should just... just bear it. Keep from doing anything that would get me knocked out and wait for an opening. Yeah.

 

She reaches my crotch and her mouth locks on to me. It's really odd, because I'm not hard at all. I grimace as she begins to suck harder. Apparently she's getting frustrated by my lack of enthusiasm. She gives up -- fucking thank god! -- and glares angrily at my foot bindings, then peevishly at me.

 

“Onigumo,” she snaps.

 

“Yes my mistress?” he simpers. Really, he simpers as he is still masturbating like hell. And mistress?

 

“How do you feel about fucking this little faggot?” she asks offhandedly.

 

What?!

 

“While he's awake?” he asks, with a hint of reluctance in his voice.

 

How dare.... Awake?

 

“But you'll do it anyway? For me? After such a nice show before, I want to see it again...” she trails off.

 

Before?

 

Is that why my asshurts?!

Forgetting that I should keep still, I renew my struggles. I can feel the bile rise in my throat at the thought of... him touching me, doing ... that to me. I'm getting weaker from withstanding all of the shocks from the rosary beads. The bitch gets in my face and puts a stop to my thrashing, though.

 

“If you so much as move a finger, I really will knock you out, you little shirt lifter,” she warns. She's going to get it.

 

I force my face into a cowardly look - which isn't too hard, surprisingly. I make my eyes go wide and I nod vigorously. She seems to buy it.

 

Time seems to slow down as the beads fall loose, gradually, as if through molasses. The dull thud when they hit the floor sends a jolt of adrenalin through me. Now!

 

Heart pounding, I fling myself forward, knocking the bitch down and managing to evade recapture. Onigumo is ready with the bat, and I narrowly miss being hit again. It's awkward, standing while being tied to the chair. I'm half bent over and off balance, but I keep my head up and watch them, growling fiercely at them. The bitch smirks from the floor and Onigumo laughs.

 

“Stupid fool,” he chokes out and lunges at me. Faster than I thought possible I maneuver the chair so the bat smashes on the wood, breaking the frame, bending the metal, and shattering my left wrist as well. But at least it gets me free. With a roar I slash the gag with the claws of my free hand and lunge at Onigumo. His face drains of color right before I smash his nose. He goes down like a sack, and the sickening thud he makes gives me an odd shiver of pleasure.

 

Then I turn my attention to the bitch. She will pay! I lunge at her and she flings out a bolt of dark miko power. I really want to taste her blood. I don't know where this desire is coming from, but I can practically see the blood rushing through her veins.

 

I flex my claws, wanting to slash that neck. I want to see her red life essence running down her throat. I want to see the life flow out of her, and taste her still warm heart—

 

CRACK!

 

What the hell? I stumble back with a gash running down my uninjured arm. Holy residue from her shock hangs in the air. She darts her eyes from Onigumo to me fearfully.

 

I really should kill her. But the pain clears my mind a little. What would Tsuyo think, or Kyara? Would they want me to kill her? I can't even believe that I'm thinking of them right now. No. I'll just knock her out then.

 

I lunge at her again. She screams and flings out another bolt that hits me in the right thigh. I gasp in pain and collapse on top of her, grabbing her arms and pinning to the floor in the process.

 

“Why did you do this to me?” I have to know. I'm crazy for doing this, but I have to know. “Why?” I growl, slamming down her hands harder, and this time I hear some bones grind out of place. She only screams and tries to squirm away.

 

I can feel her rising power. She's going to try and shock me again, but a quick blow to the temple knocks her out cold.

 

I stand up, panting. My wrist feels like there's a knife wedged in between the bones. I can barely see out of the eye that was hit with the bat, blood is dripping down my arm onto the floor, I'm really sore... down there, and any moment I think I'm going to pass out from hyperventilation.

 

I have to get out of here.

 

As fast as I can with my injuries I run to my room, trying so hard not to scream when I feel something wet and sticky run down my leg. I can't handle zippers or anything with my wrist, so I rummage through my closet with my good arm. Shippou is stirring, but I ignore him as I awkwardly pull on a pair of boxers, sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

 

“Inuyasha?” Shippou asks tentatively. I pause, trying to get words out through my constricting throat.

 

“Get your bag and Myoga and bring them to the door,” I order him. My voice sounds harsh, and from his scent I know that I'm scaring him. He struggles out of bed, still weak, and glances at me a few times. I don't move until he's gone from the room, stuffed flea and colorful boulder in hand.

 

I collapse to my knees and drag out the suitcases. With only my one hand I flip open the locks and pack the last few things that I couldn't before without them being noticed. The red and green blankets, alarm clock... what else? I can't fit anything else.

 

Closing the suitcase proves to be a struggle. The latch won't close.

 

“Damn,” I curse as my hand slips on the bloody latch.

 

“Dammit!” everything is so screwed up! There the latch is closed. Now how am I going to carry the damn things?

 

A warm, wet tongue slides up my neck.... slimy... disgusting... coated in oil.

 

I shudder.

 

Hoisting my school bag onto my shoulders, I cautiously maneuver my broken hand through the other strap. I grab the handles of both suitcases in one hand and --

 

“Shut up, bastard,” Onigumo growls, and with his free hand aims a punch for my nose. I use my other hand to block...

 

-- carry them to the door where Shippou is huddled into a small ball. He's crying and scared.... The poor kit.

 

“Shippou,” I grunt. I'm drained. I'm so tired, I can barely even stand. “Put on your backpack and hold on to Myoga.”

 

He does as I tell him, quietly. I offer my left arm to him and he hops on. Aaaaaaaaagh! That was stupid.

 

I whimper quietly, trying to hide the pain from Shippo -- Dayu.

 

“What? What happened? What did I do?” he asks worriedly.

 

“Nothing,” I grunt in pain. “Just don't move. At all. And don't... don't touch my wrist. And hang on. I can't keep you from falling.”

 

Her hands rest on my knees and glide up further towards my still painful groin.

 

“Okay,” he says seriously and nods.

 

A groan from the other room sends a shot of alarm through me. I fumble with the doorknob, cursing softly. I have to get out of here.

 

The door won't open! But there's movement back there now.

 

I have to leave now!

 

Shifting, someone getting to their feet.

 

Why won't the damn door open?!

 

“Inuyasha, what's going on?”

 

Her tongue snakes out to coat my thighs in that same disgusting oil as my neck.

 

“That stupid fuck,” someone whispers.

 

Oh damn...

 

Footsteps...

 

Fucking piece of shit for a door!

 

Coming faster, heavier.

 

Fucking finally!

 

I fling the door open, almost ripping it off its hinges and run. The Bastard doesn't even have a chance to get to the door before I take off and run with all the speed my demon blood gives me.

 

Street lights and buildings are a blur as I run. The wind blows through my tangled hair, and I can almost forget the weakness plaguing me.

 

In barely twenty minutes I'm at the train station. The lights are blinding, but the room is empty. Rows upon rows of wooden benches fill the big room. The only occupants are a bored clerk and a hobo or two, wrapped in newspaper.

 

Now sluggish, I tiredly drop the suitcases and Shippou onto a bench near the ticket window. Shippou squeaks in protest, but I completely ignore him.

 

I walk up to the window and the clerk gives me a disapproving look.

 

“Where to boy?” he asks shortly. He's a pudgy human, he's got a moustache, and little circle glasses... and... hahaha! He's wearing a pin-striped suit too! Hahahaha!

 

Oh, jeez, I'm hysterical aren't I?

 

“Two -- ”

 

I jerk back from her with no gainful result, but a sharp pain in my lower back makes itself known.... Why does it hurt there?

 

“Um, how much are two tickets to New York?” I ask.

 

“That far away?” he questions, and I just shrug. “One hundred and eighty, for one, but that one doesn't leave for two days,” he says with a significant look at my swollen face and Shippou behind me.

 

“Which one leaves the soonest and takes me the farthest away?” I ask. His mouth twitches -- probably laughing at my expense. I probably look similar to an abused woman running with her child from her violent husband. I'm just as weak as one, after all.

 

“You can get on the train that leaves for Boston, Mass, in forty five minutes; but it doesn't actually leave for another two hours,” he suggests. “It'll be a bit cheaper too. It's a slower train, and takes about two days to get there.”

 

“How much?” I ask quickly. He hesitates before giving me the price.

 

“Look, son... are you sure you wouldn't rather I call the police or somethin'?” he asks softly, in a grand-fatherly way.

 

“How much?” I growl through gritted teeth. His appearance has gone from amusing to annoying very quickly.

 

“Two hundred for you and the kid, plus the baggage,” he says after a moment.

 

“But you'll do it anyway? For me? After such a nice show before, I want to see it again...” she trails off.

 

“What?”

 

“I said, are you gonna take it?” the clerk repeats. I nod and hastily wipe off my hand before I go digging through my bag for the money. Two hundred. That's a fraction of what I have saved, but if I keep spending money like this I'll be out soon.

 

I count out two hundred dollars slowly, with one hand.

 

“Name?” he asks.

 

“In -- Nuya Mitsishi.” I reply. He's silent as the tickets are printed out. He frowns when he looks at the stack of bills, but sighs when he glances at me and Shippou again.

 

“The cost of meals and lodging is included in the price. You'll get to Boston on the twenty first, and there'll be a few stops before that,” he says in a resigned way. I nod in thanks and take the tickets and receipt.

 

Now that that's done... what next?

 

I have forty five minutes before we're allowed on the train. I sit down heavily next to Shippou and gently rest my wrist in my lap. Shippou scoots closer to me and crawls into my lap as well.

 

“Inuyasha, what's wrong with your hand? It's all puffy and big!” he exclaims worriedly when he notices my damaged wrist.

 

“Nothing, runt. Keep it down would ya?” I growl impatiently. “Remember, my name isn't Inuyasha. It's Nuya and you're Dayu.”

 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he whispers. We sit in silence for a few minutes, but it's interrupted by my hiss of pain. Shippou -- Dayu is poking my wrist.

 

“Leave it alone, would you?” I growl angrily, and in pain, and pull it away from him.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

“Yes!” I roar exasperatedly, flinging up my other arm. Which proved to be a stupid move.

 

“Oh,” he says softly, and buries his head into my stomach. I sigh and slump back into the bench.

 

“It'll get better soon,” I reassure him. “All I need is a good night sleep and I'll be fine.

 

“You should sleep too,” I add when he yawns hugely. He nods, too sleepy to argue, and sticks his thumb in his mouth before his breath evens out.

 

I glance at the clock and sigh. Thirty-eight minutes left....

 

After five minutes the benches start crawling across the room. I have to move Shipp -- Dayu onto the bench so I can go to the bathroom and splash water on my face to keep me awake.

 

After fifteen minutes every noise sounds like Onigumo coming to drag us back with prayer beads and sealing scrolls. I keep imagining him jumping through the thick, wooden doors, swinging his huge rodeo buckle.

 

After twenty-five minutes a searing, stinging heat enters my bleeding arm and leg, and my wrist is an angry purple color. The trip to the bathroom every five minutes becomes torturous.

 

...her mouth locks on to me. Her hands rest on my knees and glide up further towards my still painful groin.... flash of red before everything goes black again.

 

I think I fell asleep because the clerk wakes me up. I am startled and lash out as I regain my senses and I notice him standing there. He backs away quickly; his face is unreadable.

 

“Son, the train is boarding now,” he informs me. I nod and stand up, securing Shippou -- Dayu against me with my good -- well, I can use it better, at least -- arm. That's before I remember that my other hand is useless.

 

Surprisingly, the clerk picks up the luggage and the two back packs. “Follow me,” he says and heads off towards the train.

 

He leads Dayu and me to a ramp and I follow him. He walks down a very narrow hall, bumping the suitcases a lot, and stops in front of compartment sixty-six. He slides open the door to reveal a very small room about three feet long and six feet wide. Two cabinets that are about four feet tall, each, span the length of the room and take up an entire wall. A small stepladder rests against the cabinets to the right, and the suitcases and book bags are set down on the left side of the room

 

The clerk turns and addresses me. I can barely understand what he's saying. Something about a bathroom down the hall, don't open the door at the end of the hallway during the night, and something about a first-aid kit. Oh, he's set one on the bed that is inside the cabinet. The top cabinet door slides open to reveal a mattress, sheets and a pillow... those do look inviting.

 

I nod vaguely before he sighs and opens the bottom one and leaves, sliding the door panel behind him and enclosing me in a very tiny space.

 

My mind is mush. I sit down on the bottom bunk, swing my legs inside, settle Dayu against my shoulder, and flip the lights.

 

AN: If you are confused on anything in this chapter, just ask me. This is from Inuyasha's point of view, so some things -- like the clerk's thoughts or motives -- are unknown. I try my best to convey them in their actions and the narrating character's observations of their facial expressions, but I'm restricted a lot by the perspective I'm writing in, and by the kind of personality of the narrating character. For example, if he's not a particularly observant person, I wouldn't be describing too many things. I'd probably stick to dialogue and thoughts that deal with the generalities of the situation.

I'd also like to give a big THANK YOU (see, it's big... haha) to AI for betaing my work. You've been a big help! ^__^

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any related characters.